Chapter Text
It had been a few weeks since the Hero of the Wild parted ways with the princess. She had given his hands a reassuring squeeze, telling Link that she would be alright, and he needed some time to himself. After saying goodbye to the townspeople of Hateno that he had come to know quite well since living amongst them, Link and Epona migrated south into the jungle of Faron. Dismounting the mare and leading her towards a small water source, he closed his eyes and concentrated onto the warm breeze across his face, listening to the rippling of the spring. A short glance at his companion made him decide that they could both use a longer break.
Leaving Zelda to the duties of rebuilding Hyrule had not been an easy decision for him, but the princess insisted that he deserved some rest for both his body and mind after fulfilling his goddess chosen quest. At first, he spent restless nights filled with nightmares of the calamity returning and once again haunting Hyrule, waking up coated in cold sweat. After a while however, those dreams faded, and his body began to understand that the danger was over.
He had chosen to stay in Faron for a while. The wilderness of the region was mostly free of residents and other travelers, and the dense vegetation enclosed him in a mental safe space. Despite the heavy air and muddy soil, He enjoyed the isolation. Link kneeled next to his drinking horse, running his hand through the water before washing his face. Then he scooped handfuls of it to drink, going through a mental list of preparations for his camp.
Stars began to settle upon the firmament, barely visible through the dense leaves above. Chirping insects and croaking frogs, now accompanied by dancing shadows cast onto the water greeted him when Link came back with the materials for his resting spot. He laid out the dry sticks and leaves next to a big root, which he ultimately rested his head on with tired eyes.
When orange hued light shone on his face the next morning, Link opened his eyes slowly. Epona was standing a distance away, munching on some apples she got out of his pack.
“Hey, those are not all for you!”
He grumbled, sitting up and frowning at his stiff neck. Epona ignored him for the most part, only giving him a short puff as an answer. Link thought back to how nice it was to have the shiekah slate as a way for almost infinite storage and fast travel. But he left it with Zelda, just like he left the master sword in korok forest to rest. Now he had to carry all his things manually again.
Deeming the apples a lost cause, the Hero started packing his bedding and other stuff again, deciding to try and forage in the area. He saddled his mare again and let her drink before moving on. By the time the sun had reached its peak in the sky, he had gathered and eaten several fruits already, enjoying the sounds of the exotic birds around him Once again, his mind wandered back to the winter when he had invited Zelda to stay with him in Hateno. As friends, though. While he was certain that he had been in love with the princess for a while, and that perhaps it was mutual at some point, they had somehow developed to be very good friends, and they never moved on from that. It was similar to what he had felt for Mipha, but with her he never had the chance to find out what could have been. In the years after the calamity, while never truly leaving the princess’s side until recently, he has had a few experiences with others, but it never got that serious.
The snorting of Epona ripped him out of his thoughts. Standing up and grabbing his stuff, he got ready to move along, when he heard a wind like chime coming from his left. He stopped his movements, and began franticly looking around, but Link was not able to find the source of this sound. Shooing his mare quickly, he stalked carefully into the direction he had heard the chime from, aware that it might be an unknown danger. The sound came again, and this time he made out a narrow opening in between the foliage. Narrowing his eyes, Link made his way through the small space and found himself standing in a damp cave. He felt along the rough stone of the walls, and as he stepped in further, a startled flock of keese fled out of the opening. Crumbling old stairs led deeper down into the cave, but the hero descended anyways, clutching his fist around the small Hylia token on his necklace. Whatever this path led to, the swelling air and rotten stench could mean nothing good. The deeper he went, the clearer he could hear the whispering of an unfamiliar power, not of the goddesses making, but not clearly evil.
Despite the increasing tightness in his stomach, Link still moved on, reaching the end of the stairs. The now widening stone walls had turned into black, smooth stone at some point, and led to a rounded grotto. The soft glow of luminous stone embedded into the walls led him in, and a strong scent of roses hit him. Said flowers tangled tightly around an object in the middle of the grotto. Blood red petals sprinkling the thorny vines seemed far too delicate, and how they where able to grow in the low light was beyond him.
Slowly, Link moved closer and knelt next to what he now recognized as a dais covered in the thorny vines. Upon touching the soft petals carefully, Link noticed something else. There was a sword sunken into the stone. The placement reminded him immediately of the master sword. He quickly decided to inspect the thing further and got out a small knife from his pocket to carefully cut some of the flowers away. Once he was able to see what he had just freed, his stomach dropped.
A giant, obsidian blade with wicked, razor-sharp edges, a dark cross guard seemingly resembling the wings of keese, and a matching black hilt formed the sword that was before his eyes now. Just above the winged cross guard, a crimson ruby was embedded into the blade. Now that he concentrated on it, he could feel a strange pull from the sword. Was it what had called him here? And why was it left in this dark cave to rot? Slowly Link let his hand hover above the ruby, before attempting to pull it out. Surprisingly he was met with little resistance, and soon held the blade in both his hands. It was massive.
Warmth. It was the first time in eons the spirit felt something again. This heat was spreading from his hilt to the tip of his blade and made Ghirahim aware he must have been picked up by his master again, held by his mighty hands. Had he forgiven him? Forgiven his undignified failure to eliminate Hylia’s chosen one?Even though a dense fog clouded his memorys still, he remembered how he was defeated. Therefore the spirit concluded that no, this could not be the case. Demise must merely be in need of his blade again, after all this time. Ghirahim knew better then to believe his king capable of mercy, believe himself worthy of it. Surely, he would be punished later for his weakness.
The following days Link started to get familiar with the feeling of the sword. Due to its size he had to use both hands when wielding the blade, but that did not stop him. The sheer power burning under his fingers when he cut through the air while practicing reminded him of the master sword once again. He did miss his trusted weapon, but after defeating the calamity it needed a rest, just like him. Yet he could not deny the itching for a fight, to use a weapon that would not break on him. One time, he got lost in thoughts while polishing and ended up cutting himself on the palm.
He had left Epona at the nearby stable to hunt. Hidden in the high grass near the river, Link had his bow drawn ready, the target a lone duck diving for a meal of its own in the water. The blonde was already picturing the deep-fried bird roast, feeling slightly sorry for the unsuspecting animal. Just as he was about to loosen the arrow, a quiet chime startled him, and the duck flew away in a rush.
“Damn it...”
He muttered, looking behind himself to find the source of the sound. Yet, he could make out nothing, so he stood up to instead collect food that would not run away. While Link picked some fruit, he still felt a tingly sensation every time he started to relax. It was like someone was watching him.
He was on his way north to Akkala. The steady thumping of hooves filled the quiet night around him, and Link slightly dozed off, settled on Epona’s back. A quiet chuckle woke him from his brief slumber. Snapping his eyes open, Link looked around franticly, doubting his ears since he once again did not see anyone. Why did this keep happening to him? Was he just becoming lonely and imagining things or was someone following him?
Link let his horse come to a halt and jumped off, drawing the sword. The dark power emanating from within comforted him in a strange way. A rustling in the trees caught his attention, followed by a silhouette of a person disappearing behind the leaves of an oak. Slowly and on high alert, Link neared the tree, but when he looked up into the crown, he saw nothing. He stood there, feeling frozen in time.
Suddenly he felt a firm grip on his shoulder. A suffocating weight laid upon his chest, his vision becoming blurry, and Link felt his heart quicken. He fell onto his hands and knees, turning around with the blade held defensively before him. His whole body was covered in goosebumps when he looked up, his gaze clear again. Metallic, black skin reflected the moonlight, white eyes boring down on him. Clutching the hilt of his blade in tension, he scrambled to his feet but still had to look up to meet the gaze of this stranger. Right on eye level was a silver diamond on the chest of the spirit and Link soon found his eyes drawn there, dumbfounded.
The sweet taste of blood had woken him from his slumber. It had been a long time, but finally he felt his powers being strengthened enough to become corporeal. Ghirahim had followed the hylian that had picked up his blade around carefully for days, watching him. The sprite had remembered the habitants of Hyrule as weak little things, never capable of holding let alone wielding a powerful weapon such as himself. Yet millennia ago, on his quest to resurrect his king, he met a young man that was far stronger than Ghirahim could have ever imagined.
“And what do you think you are doing? Loosen your unworthy hold on my blade at once, little mortal!”
He towered dangerously over the small man, his eyes burning into those blue ones before him. Ghirahim wasn’t that ignorant, he recognized the man immediately, sensing the ancient soul and unbreakable determination within. This was a reincarnation of the hero of light, his nemesis, the one he should have killed in another lifetime when he still had the chance. His observation of the Hero over the last few days only strengthened this regret. Hylia must have found a way to bring him back. It seemed like the pesky goddes still had not given up trying to stop them, even after eons.
The demon bared his fangs, glad that his blank eyes could not betray his racing thoughts. Of course, that little hero would be strong enough to pick up his blade. Although Ghirahim was aware the mortal probably had no idea who he was or that he now held unimaginable control over the spirit, he could not shake loose the fearful thought of what would happen if he found out. So, he resigned himself to masking his doubts by raising his voice again.
“Do you even know who I am? You stand before a Lord! Show reverence, weak Hylian.”
Ghirahim snarled, spreading his arms in a flourish movement. Yet the hero only stared at him wide eyed. Slowly, he lowered the weapon and averted his gaze to the ground, fidgeting with the handle. The movement made Ghirahim nauseous.
Slowly, Link began to stutter out, probably still feeling the resentful stare of his opponent on him.
“I- I’m sorry, I found the sword recently in a… cave. I didn’t know it belonged to someone.”
The demon scoffed.
“The blade doesn’t belong to me, it is me.”
He closed the distance between them, placing two fingers under the others chin, which forced their eyes to meet again. His next words came pressed out between a tense jaw.
“I’m the demon whose vessel you are holding right now, so unless you want me to show you the way to an early grave, you better give it back right now!”
Hesitantly Link reached out to give Ghirahim the sword, who grabbed it eagerly and made it dissolve into tiny diamonds. Yet having his vessel back would not rid the spirit from his connection to this mortal, and therefore he had to find another way. If he were to bring the hylian to demon realm, a solution could surely be found. A slight grin curved his lips, and he leaned close to the hero.
“So… since you so rudely picked up what doesn’t belong to you, it is only right that you repay me now.”
He received a frown from the noticeably stiffened blonde, so he backed up a little.
“I will take you somewhere where you will be of use to me. So come along now. Oh, and don’t try to do anything stupid.”
he let his white tongue slip out over his lips briefly, grinning down on the other.
With seemingly no other option and a slight feeling of guilt, Link walked after the self-proclaimed demon Lord. When he picked up the sword, he had not thought it possible it really belonged to someone, as it seemed abandoned. Despite this spirits threats, something drew the Hero to him, and he wasn’t sure what it meant yet. The smaller man struggled to follow the long, regal strides of the taller figure, but he did his best to keep up.